Ad vitam
by GryffJr
Summary: AU: The main purpose of time travel is to change the past; ...She would save them all, even with a cost of her own life..HGSS
1. Prologue

Disclaimer:I do NOT own Harry Potter or anything you may recognise in this story. No money are made from this story.

**Ad vitam**

(For Life)

_Prologue:_

Breathing heavily she closed the door and sat on the cold stone floor.Blood covered bodies of her friends and enemies were left behind the oak doors and peace of the cold room surrounded her step by step.

This was too much to take. The pain was crushing her from inside and the only thing she wanted now was just close her eyes and pretend that nothing of this hapened.

Pretend that they were alive, pretend that all of them were safe enough to survive...at least this night.

Hermione Granger stood up and walked to the table in the dark room to start her search. She had no doubt that _it_ supposed to be here.

„_Then the time comes, you will know what to do,Miss Granger. But until when, it will lies here and will wait for you".- Professor McGonnagal put away the Time Turner inside one of the drawers, when young Hermione gave it back to her after the events of the her third year of education in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

„_But Professor...I am not sure I can understand...why?"_

„_Do not ask the questions now Miss Granger. The asnwers will come with time.- soft smile appeared on the teacher's face.- Now off with you, go child, or you will miss the express home."_

Professor's McGonnagal's study was up in the Gryffindor Tower's fartherst corner. The Death Eaters were still on the school's grounds. She had at least fifteen minutes to react.

Frantically opening drawer afrer drawer she finally found what she was looking for. Time Turner...She put it around her neck and already wanted to turn it on when she caught the sight of a book in the bottonm of the drawer. She has never seen it before.It looked like it was at least five or six hundred years old. _'The Secrets Whithin...Hogwarts :the Uncut History."_

She could not resist to open the first page and read between the lines.

_The four founders...School of witchcraft and wizardy...an oreder was formed... to protect...in the time of need...the special mark on the wrist...no one will ask no questions...all roads are open...phoenix with open wings..._

„No one will ask no questions..."- she whispered closing the book.

„_I was a paranoid once Miss Granger.Maybe even wose whan Alastor- The Headmaster of Hogwarts,Albus Dumbledore chuckled after asking if Hermione wanted some Lemon Drops."Believe it or not, I was. After Tom finally became Lord Voldemort and started his attacks on muggle towns more frequently,I saw the danger everythere. That was of coarse, untill the prophecy was found."_

„_About Harry,Headmaster?"_

„_Yes...I couldn't even trust myself,after all I believed in Tom's good side untill the end. I was supposed to take care of the students here.Ah...I believe we had even several steps of a work interview.Yes, post of the Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts had always atracted some spectacular personalities to Hogwarts..."_

She was supposed to went back in time in order to change the future. Challenging Fate was always a hard thing. She had done it before,she could do it now as well. She heard some distant voices and steps nearing. She had no time and quickly started to turn the Time Turner's little wheel...

_All roads are open..._

She would save them all,even with a cost of her own life.

**A/N:Hello dear readers. This story is complitely AU, but I hope to make it different from the other Time Turner stories you've read.(next chapters will be longer).Also, I need a beta-reader for this story.So,if anyone's willing, go on and contact me:-)  
Hope you'll like this one, oh..and don't forget to review!**


	2. The Bet

**Disclaimer: Not mine, nevr will be...**

**A/N: remember, **_italics-_ Hermiones flashbacks. That's all, enjoy your reading and don't forget to review.

_She was sitting quietly on the chair in the corner of the library which now was being transofmed in to the fighting arena .Kingsley and Ron both stood in the middle of improvised arena.Today particulary was the physical training day-Monday. She never liked Mondays, but since this was one of the Moody's crazy ideas of trainings ...she just had to be there. If they were going to survive the attacks of the Death Eaters, they were going to learn all the things that learned Aurors in the ministry. Muggle physical training was one of them. Moody did all he could –never letting her to figthhis shovinistic seeing of the things didn't make it easier, but still she needed to participate:special request of professor Dumbledore._

„_Girl can fight, but she can't kill...This is not going to work."-these were the words ahe was always hearing from him._

_Kingsleyr met Ron in the center of the ring with a left to the body and a left and right to the head. The Auror rushed Roy and peppered him with lightning blows. Kingsley missed a right and redhead caught him with a right to the jaw. They clinched in the center of the ring. Ron was scoring heavily in the infighting. He got over a hard right to the Auror's jaw and Kingsley held on. Kingsley stung Ron with a left to the jaw, Ron countering with a right to the body. They exchanged body blows in the clinch that followed. Kingsley got over the best blow of the fight, a terrific right to Ron's head which spun the redhead half way around, seconds later causing his falling onto the cold stone floor._

"_Enough!"- Remus's voice rang with an echo._

"_Granger! - Snape growled from the other corner of the room. - You're next."_

"_She won't make it ". - insisted an old Auror._

"_A bet?"-inquired the Potion Master_

"_You're on, Death Eater."- Still suspicious Moody shook Snape's hand. Although Snape was unmasked before Voldemort as a traitor and worked only for the Order of Phoenix, for a while now, Moody still considered him as a traitor and did not trust the man in front of him._

"_In the middle Granger!"- roared Mad-eye._

_Hermione and Kingsley stood in the middle of the arena, She bent her knees a little and lifted her elbows closer to her stomach. In the moment when Kingsley stretched his right hand ready to pepper her, she suddenly sat down stretching her right leg under Auror and hit him in the back of his knees. This move made him fall hard on his back. She stood up quickly again, took her wand from the back pocket of her jeans and pointed it on the Kingsley._

"_You've lost Moody.-smirked Snape. - Deal with it. Miss Granger, - he added,-Care to explain?"_

"_Professor, Sir…-she looked directly at him. - He always starts fight with lightning blows…_ _The theory of probability__. I had a small chance that he will start the fight differently, however,he did as usual."_

"_Still, she can fight…-Moody hadn't changed his mind.-but she can't kill, Snape. This is not enough."_

"_Her main goal Moody is to stay alive, to survive.-Obsidian eyes of the Potion Mater looking around the room with the hint of victory. - While Potter and Weasley certainly can kill, that does not mean that they shall stay alive. They won't, but she will…."_

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Hermione slowly opened her eyes and looked around. Everything was the same as in the moment she turned the time-turner. Nothing changed. Maybe this was only her imagination, and there was no attack? She touched her neck, time-turner was not there, but the book still was in her hands. In that case, what was she doing in the McGonagall's office? She heard some distant noises and decided better to hide away in the shadows of the room. 

"Albus, really…..where do you expect me to find a new Defense Against Dark Arts teacher? We have only two days until the start of term. There are no available Gryffindorfs to take this position."

"Longbottom?"- He asked carefully.

"Frank is too busy in the ministry, besides he just got married. Do not expect him to leave his young wife and run to help you."

"Pity…-old headmaster whispered to himself. - He was the best student in DADA in years. I don't trust them."-he stated simply.

"Whom Albus? To Ravenclaw, Slytherin or Hufflepuff? Sometimes I think you don't even trust me."

"Sometimes I think Minerva, I don't even trust myself."

"What should we do?"- said worried Transfiguration professor.

"Wait, Minnie…..we should wait. - He put his hand inside his robes and pulled out a candy. - Lemon drop?"

Their conversation ended. McGonagall took some parchments from her table and both professors walked out of the office.

Hermione let out her breath she never realized she was holding inside. This was he chance…but at first, she opened the book she was still holding close to herself and started to read:

'_Cinis cineris ut cinis cineris , pulvis ut pulvis. Phoenix mos prognatus perpetro task.From totus supremus phasmatis tribuo mihi strengh,to pugna pro lux lucis in caligo dies.'_

After this, everything went black…….

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(Translation from Latin: 'Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Phoenix will be born to complete the task. From all above spirit give me strengh, to fight for light in the darkest days.) 


	3. HG stands for?

Disclaimer: How many times do I have to tell you this?...oka...i do not own HP! Happy?

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A/N: This chapter was beta-ed by **rid.me.of.this.ennui**. Thank you for a wornderful work you've done:-)

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Hermione tried to open her eyes very slowly at start. Feeling like she had been run over by a hippogriff prevent her from moving further. And then suddenly she realized that she was no longer in Professor McGonagall's office, but...in the Hospital Wing?

"What the...?" she tried getting up, but lightning like pain in her right hand made her drop back onto her pillows. She turned, rolling over onto her right side, her left hand gripping her right wrist in an attempt to lessen the pain.

"Good mornimg child," a familiar voice called from behind her. The middle aged woman came around to Hermione's side and the girl had little problem reconizing her as a younger Poppy Pomfrey.

Hermione gulped. So it hadn't all been a nightmare after all; everyone really was gone and she really had gone back in time to save them. Back to, it seemed, a time when Madam Pomfrey acted as the matron in Hogwarts infirmary.

"Don't hold your hand so tightly, dear," the nurse told her," elsewise I wont be able to heal it properly."

Gently the older woman pried the girl's hand from its slippery death grip on her other wrist, both hands coated in blood. "Now, what a mess! _Scourgify!_"

The spell did as it was meant to, quickly vanishing the red mess, but the sticky liqiud was just as fast.

"Strange," muttered the witch, "The bleeding should have stopped by now..."

"Problem Poppy?" Another familiar voice: this one belonging to Albus Dumbledore.

"Oh, Headmaster, I don't understand. The blood should have clotted by now."

The old man made a gesture with his hand. "If you would allow me?"

"Yes, of course. I'll just be in my office if you need me."

He nodded his approval and turned to the stranger on the bed.

Hermione met his gaaze. It was different, odd even, seeing the old man without the twinkle that usually glittered from his eyes. It was a strange absence, but not one she could not condone. He must have been under an awful amount of pressure now, during this first war with Voldemort.

Unlike her, he didn't know that Harry Potter would rid the world of the bastard for six-teen years or so. At this point, Dumbledore hadn't even heard the prophecy.

A softly trilled note called Hermione's attention to the bird that sat on the old man's shoulder.

Alright, so bird was a relative term.

The Headmaster's familiar, his phoenix Fawkes, sat upon his shoulder, regarding Hermione most curiously. Then, in a blink of the creature's beetle black eyes, he had landed on Hermione's bed and dipped his head to inspect her bleeding wrist. Apparently finding what he was looking for, another soft note was emmited from his beak before his crystal tears flowed onto the wound, healing the damaged skin.

Headmaster didn't say a word.

And as the phoenix's tears healed the wound, they washed away the second out-pouring of blood from her veins.

Hermione looked at her newly healed wrist as best she could with Fawkes sitting in front of it. Ruffling his feathers, the bird moved to give her a better view, and Hermione stared in disbelief at the golden tattoo on her arm. It was a small phoenix, wings outstretched, just as it should have been.

_Merlin...It really worked...I did it!_

Still in awe, she looked to the Headmaster.

"Miss..." he began, staring her straight in the eyes.

_Legilimency.._ she thought. _No doubt about that. Tricky, old man, but not as easy as you thought it was going to be is it? All right, review time. Snape said..._

She forced herself to relax despite the tension in her body and imagined creating a wall in her mind, brick by brick. She thought quickly, what to give him? Her known name would be risky, he knew her in the future, but her real name would be less so.

_She had just returned to Headquarters from her father's funeral. Though he had died several weeks previously in a plane crash, Frank Ganger's body had just recently been found._

_She had gone alone; she hadn't wanted Harry or Ron to accompany her, it was much too dangerous for either to leave teh safety of Grimmuald Place. _

_A voice starlted her back into reality._

_"Hey, Granger, you okay?" asked one Draco Malfoy. _

_Now that Snape had been exposed as the spy he was, he no longer had any connections to Voldemort or his Death Eaters, Dumbledore had chosen the young Malfoy as the next spy for the Order. _

_"Yeah, I'm fine."_

_"Good." He nodded and turned back to the kitchen, limping a little on his left leg. _

_Hermione watched him until he was out of sight and headed towards the sitting room, where she could hear the boys' voices drifting from. _

_"Hermione..." began Harry, "How-" and he faltered.He had lost his own parents, yes, but that had been when he was a babe and he had no personal memories of them. Hermione had grown up with her father's constant presence. He tried again._

_"H-How is your mother?"_

_Hermione sighed and sat down on the couch, staring at her hands. "She went home after the service, I didn't have much of a chance to talk to her."_

_"**What?**"_

_The word was a malovlent whisper issued from the dark corner next to the hearth. Seconds later Professor Sanpe's face could be distinguished from the shadows. _

_"Isolent chit! I was exposed as a spy saving your mother from McNair! Sending her back to the house she was attacked in is equivalent to signing her death warrant. They will attack her again once they find her."_

_Hermione sighed once more. Snape's reasoning was not unfounded, but it was wrong nonetheless._

_"They'll be looking for Callista **Granger**, but they won't find her..."_

_"Yes, that would be your mother's name."_

_"Explain it to us 'Mione?" Harry asked, concern for her sanity in his bright reen eyes. _

_"I spoke with my grandfather at the funeral today, and... and I told him everything."_

_"Everything?" asked Ron. "Everything as in..."_

_"Everything. About magic, about Voldemort," Ron and the professor winced at her casual address of the Dark Lord, only Harry had no reaction."About the war, and about Mum's situation. He came up with a solution._

_"My grandfather... he... he was forced to change his name after he ran away from his home."_

_"He ran away? From where?" Harry asked._

_"La Terra Corsa."_

_"Corsica?" Snape muttered. "Interesting..."_

_"Yes. He was born into a respected family in Bastia, but never really shared their views or lifestyle; kind of like Sirius, Harry." The boy's eyes lit up at the mention of his godfather. "Anyway, his family was involved in a few of the independence groups, the ones known to practice extortion and other intimidatory tactics... 'The Fighters for the Freedom of Corsica.' _

_"Since my grandfather didn't care much for their methods, his family threatened him with death. So he ran. _

_"When he reached England he changed his name from Alessandro Grimaldi to Alexander Granger. And when he ran, he took his wife and his young son with him. Thus Franco Grimaldi became Frank Granger, my father."_

_The room stared blankly at her._

_Ron was the first to find his voice._

_"Have you always known?"_

_"No," she answered. "Just since Father's death. My grandfather is changing his papers to formally become Alessandro Grimaldi again, thereby changing my mother's name as well. And after Grandfather's death I am to change my name as well, entering the right of succession and become heir to all that is my family's"_

"Grimaldi." She finished her name for the Headmaster. "Hermione Grimaldi."

She decided to play innocent.

"And you are...?"

"Forgive me, I must seem very rude; I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He offered her his hand to shake. Hermione absently noted that it was a muggle custom. "Now, Miss Grimaldi, may I inquire as to what brings you to Hogwarts?"

Hermione offered her newly healed hand in return; making sure the phoenix was displayed. "I was under the impression that you were looking for someone to fill the Defense Against the Dark Arts position…"

Just as she had hoped, the magical tattoo had caught the Headmaster's attention and he pulled the sleeve of his right hand up for Hermione to see his matching one.

The twinkle that had been absent during their discussion returned to the man's blue eyes as he smiled at her.

"And, by the looks of it, I believe I've just found one…."

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_**Review,Please :-)**_


	4. The Guardians

_Disclaimer: do NOT own, and never will..._

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A/N: Especial _THANK YOU_ for the **rid.me.of.this.ennui...**for the amazing work she's done with this chapter.:-)

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_The main purpose of time travel is to change the past; and the prime danger is that the Traveler might change the past." -- _Larry Niven

Hermione stood in the center of her newly appointed living quarters, thinking back on recent events: What had happened. What she had come to change.

The deaths of her friends and loved ones. Voldemort's malicious laugh as Harry fell before him. Her race against time and the surviving Death Eaters to McGonagall's office followed by her frantic search for the Time Turner, fighting to be quicker than those who pursued her. Her discovery of the ancient book and the spell within. The flick of her wrist that sent her spinning back in time while she cast the spell she hadn't had time to study, hoping against all reason that it would work.

Which led her to where she was now: the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the term about to begin years before she would be born.

She was somewhat amazed at the ease of it all, though, she supposed she shouldn't be.

Dumbledore's reaction hadn't been what she had expected. A smile and a handshake, no questions asked but who she was. No query as to when or where she had come by the mark on her arm. No inquiry as to how she had appeared in his Transfiguration professor's office, beaten and bloodied as she was.

There was nothing in his reception but kindness and trust; a trust born of the matching glittering gold on their right wrists.

Her wonder at the Headmaster's actions pulled something from the recesses of her mind.

_The Order of the Phoenix was established over a thousand years ago, created by the Four Founders of Hogwarts. It was not the brain child of Albus Dumbledore created during the war with Grindelwald as she had always thought. No, the possibility that the castle could be taken and used for evil was a threat that even Salazar Slytherin thought worth protecting against._

_For the castle was not just a school, it was a fortress. A safe house for those in need. _

_But to remain safe the castle needed guards, it needed Guardians. _

_The Four knew that they would not live forever. And just as Gryffindor had charmed the Sorting Hat to delegate Houses when they could no longer hand pick their students, they charmed the castle choose those whom it felt most able to protect it when they were dead and gone. _

_The Mark of the Guardians, a tattoo of a golden phoenix with wings outstretched, such as Hermione and Dumbledore had on their wrists, was the creation of Rowena Ravenclaw. One she was fiercely protective of, with good reason. _

_The Mark opened all doors in the castle and Guardians had access to any and all parts of the castle whenever they so chose. Thus the Mark and its characteristics were coveted by all who knew of them._

_Ravenclaw's perception of this inevitable jealousy led to a spell on the Mark: an attempt to create the Mark by any not chosen by the castle would result in the said person's most horrible death. _

_The charm on the castle was the work of all Four Founders, and once cast, essentially gave the castle a mind of its own, just as the Sorting Hat had. _

_But where as the Hat could only look into the mind and heart of eager first years once placed on their heads, the Castle saw into the very souls of all who passed through its' doorway through their footsteps on its' stone floors. _

_The Hat chose only the person's House. The Castle chose their destiny. _

_There were not many Guardians, usually only one every generation. And they **always** worked within the school; so said the Castle when it meddled with the stars. _

_The Guardians could leave the castle, but they were always drawn back. No force of magic or nature could stop this lure but death. _

_And though not technically **bound** to the school, this pull demanded the Guardian do all in his or her power to protect the Castle and the children within in times of need. _

Hermione stared down at her wrist with something akin to awe in her eyes. She knew she had never heard that before. The magic in the Mark appeared to be more than it seemed.

She concentrated on what she had just learned: Ok, so she was chosen, and if she hadn't been she would have killed herself attempting that Marking spell. The cold touch of fear trailed down her spine at the thought and she shivered at the contact.

So the Castle chose her destiny. It had selected her the moment she first walked across the flagstone floors of the Entrance Hall.

This revelation begged the question: _Did the Castle put the book there for me to find?_

After all, why would such a rare book as **The Secrets Within… Hogwarts: The Uncut History**, obviously was be in the Transfiguration professor's office where just anyone could see it? Why would it not be in the Headmaster's office, under lock and key, when it held such an obviously dangerous spell? And that was only on the first page!

She shook her head. The more she thought about it the more she convinced herself it was the truth.

Hermione turned her thoughts back to Dumbledore. Gods, he must see her as heaven-sent! To have two Guardians in the castle at a time when a madman was trying to take over the world… She was just what he needed.

The newly instated professor dragged her thoughts back to her surroundings, pushing off explanations in favor of surveying her quarters.

There were three rooms in total, a bedroom, a bath and a sitting room/study, all done in variations of black, red and gold.

When stepping in from the hall, the sitting room was the first room she saw. The wall to the right of the door was a large window that looked out over the lake and school grounds, she could just make out the pennants flying above the Quidditch pitch before the Forest swallowed the grounds in darkness.

Set in front of this window was a tasteful deep red couch with accent pillows of black with gold stripes settled against the armrests. A large black blanket edged in gold thread was draped across the back of the couch, artfully folded.

Red thread picked out a subtle design on the black curtains that framed the wide window, gold ties held these drapes open now.

The wall that held the door and wall to the left of it (which also held a door) were covered in floor to ceiling redwood book shelves, all completely filled with Dark Arts texts and reference materials of all disciplines. It was a bibliophile's dream. These shelves only broke for the doors set in each.

Hermione assumed that the other door led to her bedroom.

An intimate seating area was placed the slate fireplace that was on the far wall: two black leather wingback chairs on either side of a low glass tea table.

The "study" was in the corner of the room made by the window and the wall with the fireplace. A large redwood desk was placed so that the occupant might face the room.

Hermione nodded in approval at the room and promised herself a look at some of the texts after she had seen the rest of her rooms.

The other door that marred the bookshelves led to a bedroom, as Hermione had presumed.

The room was circular, with a king-sized four poster bed standing proudly on a raised dais in the center. Red silk sheets adorned the bed and heavy black curtains hung from the rods that connected each of the four redwood posts. The duvet was crushed black velvet stuffed with goose down, just as the pillows were. The Hogwarts crest was embroidered into both the duvet and the pillows, as was fitting for a Hogwarts Guardian.

The walls were an off white color that was veined in gold, giving the appearance of marble. They were a nice contrast to the black and gold marble on the floor.

Along the walls were two dressers and two armoires done from redwood as to match the wood in the rest of the rooms.

It was plain, yet elegant in an old world style. Hermione was happy with it.

The door to the lavatory sat behind the door, situated between the two dressers. Hermione walked over to it, trailing her fingertips across the duvet. She looked forward to sleeping in the bed. It was bigger and looked to be more comfortable than any she had ever slept in.

Crossing from the bed to the bathroom door in a few strides, Hermione twisted the golden knob in anticipation. If the other rooms were any indication, she was going to love the bathroom as well.

And upon stepping through the doorway, she came to the conclusion that she did.

The gold veined black marble that was the floor in the other two rooms was continued in here, but it also crept up the walls, covering them, the counter, the shower and the bathtub that reminded her of her of the Prefect's bath.

She was thrilled.

The shower was roomy with two walls done is glass and two in marble. A large golden shower head hung out at her and the marble along one wall had been carved into a shelf to hold products and a seat was hewn into the corner.

The toilet had its own small closet at the far end of the spacious room and seemed to disappear when the door was closed.

The counter top was long with enough room beside the sink for Hermione to place her toiletries on. And behind it, a large mirror covered the wall.

Hermione took the opportunity to study reflection. She hadn't seen herself since the day before the battle. There just hadn't been a chance.

She was in no way too distinctive. Neither short nor tall, Hermione stood five foot six inches; a few inches taller than some of her female peers and a few inches shorter than the others.

She wasn't fat or skinny either. She was rather filled out, she supposed, but she was most definitely in shape. That was due in large part to Alastor Moody. She had had to train much harder than the boys to please him. He thought her incapable of physical combat based solely on her gender. She had worked hard to prove him wrong.

_And look where it's got me. _She mused. _The only Order member to survive the Final Battle._

She shot a glance at her hair. It was its usual untamed mess, but slightly less frizzy than it had been the year before. It fell just past her shoulders now; it must have fallen out during the battle. She usually wore it up, McGonagall style, to keep it from her face during study sessions and then, more recently, training sessions.

She tilted her head and a few strands fell out from behind her ear to hide her right eyes. With a **_huff_** they had moved to frame her face attractively.

_Now if it cold just lay flat…_

She shook her head at her musings, ridding herself of them. She stole a quick glance down at her watch, which, oddly enough, still worked. There was enough time before dinner for a shower to freshen up.

She peeled her black tank top off and over her head, throwing it on the floor behind her.

Hermione took a moment to study her newly exposed torso. Her reminder of Dolohov's gift from the Battle in the Department of Mysteries was still there: a scar that stretched down from the underside of her left breast to midway down her left side. At least she had got to give him a gift in return during the final battle. Not that it would matter now.

Her ratty black jeans followed her tank top to the floor. She hoped the elves wouldn't throw them away. She had bought them toward the end of her fifth year, and they had seen much use since. The waist was low and the knees had holes in them, and because they were a little long, the bottoms were frayed from where they were kept in contact with the rough ground. But she loved them despite their appearance. They were so damn comfortable that she couldn't throw them out. And besides, she had added a special pocket on the outside of her right thigh for her wand.

Moody especially approved of that one: Much safer than having it in her back pocket where she could take off buttock. She preferred it because it made her wand easier to reach and reduced the chance of it snapping in half when she sat down.

The glove on her left hand went the same way as the jeans and the shirt, only much more gently. The black leather glove was the Weasley twins' idea, thought up particularly for her. Upon its creation the Twins had proudly presented it to her and begged her to try it on, only to snatch it back when she had to take the fingers off. "More mobility," they had said.

Reaching up to her elbow, the glove was riddled with hidden pockets and compartments that held a variety of conveniently shrunken things. Hidden in the glove was almost a complete potions kit, albeit in small doses: from basic healing potions, such as headache potions, to the more advanced potions (Veritaserum and its antidote). Also concealed in the glove were a quill, shrunken like the rest, a pot of black ink and Hermione's spare wand.

Only she and the twins knew she wore it, Disillusioned as it was.

Hermione turned from the mirror and her reflection to get in the shower.

The water was cold, a tactical reminder of the rain that had covered the battle field. The spray broke something in her, and for the first time since the battle she cried for those she had lost.

The memories came in torrents, just as the water did.

The screams, the curses, the blood… the bodies everywhere. The sky painted in a sickening green and the ground washed in red…

…Harry, Ron, Tonks, Nevile, Luna, Remus, the Twins… McGonagall's lifeless eyes staring up to the heavens…

This wouldn't do. She wasn't here to mourn them. She was here to save them, no matter the cost.

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hands, blending the salty drops with the ice water that fell on her from above. She turned to the shelf on the wall of the shower, thankfully all she needed to clean herself and her hair had been provided.

A few minutes later she was out and drying herself with a fluffy black towel with the Hogwarts crest stitched in gold at the bottom.

She glanced at her reflection once more. The grime was gone and there were red circles under her eyes, but nothing else had changed.

A few minutes spent on charms later, the circles were gone and her hair was pulled back out of her face.

She examined her face, now free of curls, in the mirror as she had not done before. Her eyes had hardened, she noticed, as a result of the war. Her lips were settled into a neutral expression, neither a smile nor a frown, which showed nothing of what she was feeling. Her cheeks were slightly colored from the scrubbing they had just received and seemed to give off a rosy glow.

She didn't think she looked too bad. In fact, if she had to admit it, she thought she looked rather good. However, she would, and did, admit that she looked her almost nineteen years. _That might be a problem later…_

How in the world was she supposed to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, one of the most important subjects the school offered, to students only a few years younger than herself?

How was she going to get them to take her seriously and to do their work when she had never been able to convince her friends of the same things?

Hermione groaned as she reached for the clothes the House Elves had provided for her, matching black silk knickers and bra along with black slacks and a royal purple blouse.

At least she didn't have to write up lesson plans for the year. Dumbledore had done that himself as the Defense professor changed every year. Although he had said she was free to change anything she felt like.

She sighed.

It was going to be a trying year.

Hidden in the shadows of his room, a young man lay in bed, staring at the shadows on his ceiling. With a sigh, as though in disappointment at the shadows, he turned onto his side, his back to the window beside his bed.

The emotions he let no one see were free to play across his face here. And play they did. Flitting between relief, anticipation, fear and concern, his emotions took the young man on an exhausting ride.

This would be the year he proved himself. This would be the year she saw him. And this would be the year that _he_ got the better of Potter and Black. This would be the year he took control.

He stretched his left arm before him and studied it intensely. It was bare now. Bare of dirt and bare of any markings. Bare of anything that would mar its alabaster shade. The man allowed himself a faint smile in his solitude. There were only a few months left before that would change.

He traced the outline of the mark that would grace his skin, a skull with a snake protruding from the mouth. The Dark Mark. It would be his on January 9th, a date he eagerly looked forward to.

With another fading smile Severus Snape allowed himself to be put in Morpheus's capable hands.

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**A/N: REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!!!!!!**


	5. Let the game begin

**Disclaimer: do NOT own a thing...you know the drill...**

The ceiling of the Great Hall mimicked the first night of September's sky, reds, oranges, pinks and purples fading into a regal dark blue. Hermione looked up to see a few stars twinkling above her in the dark streaks.

At least it wasn't raining.

She turned her gaze to the rest of the hall. The House banners had been taken down for their annual cleansing at the end of last term but each was now back where it belonged: proudly hanging from the rafters above their respective tables.

Everything was prepared for the Fall term.

The Great Hall was clean, as were the corridors, classrooms, common rooms, and dorm rooms, thanks to Flich and the elves.

Professors' lesson plans were neatly stacked on their desks, ready and waiting for lessons to be taught and papers to be assigned.

The Great Hall, as previously stated, was in pristine condition, the floating candles all drifting at a uniform height and the gold table settings glistening in their light.

Hermione sighed.

She could almost imagine that it would be her friends that would be coming through those double doors in a few moments.

She fidgeted in her seat and took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.

And she was nervous. She could admit it now. Oh, it wasn't because she was going to be teaching the next day, she was sure she'd do well with that. And it wasn't because she was year in the past; she was here for a reason. And it wasn't even because she had a newly found power over the castle.

No, she could thank Minerva McGonagall for her current state.

_"Dear Merlin," the Scot sighed as she and Hermione walked the corridors to the Great Hall. "I cannot believe it is almost over. Thank the gods."_

_"'Thank the god's that what is over Professor?" Hermione asked. **Should I be worried about something?** she thought._

_"It's Minerva," the woman replied with a smile as she pushed open the staff door to the Hall. "We are colleagues, my dear. Making nice with other professors is encouraged here."_

_"Yes, of course, Minerva."_

_**Going to have to watch yourself on that one, Hermione; despite the fact that it feels odd. **_

_"Right then, you had asked what I was referring to. This will be the final year of four boys who have dubbed themselves 'the Marauders'."_

_Hermione felt her heart stop and the blood drain from her face._

_"Are you all right, dear?"_

_Hermione's mind supplied her with a lie:_

_"Oh yes, sorry, just remembering something I've forgotten to do."_

_"I hope it wasn't too terribly important."_

_"Oh, no, nothing life threatening."_

_"Good. I know how awful it is to forget something significant. You just simply cannot believe that escaped your mind…"_

_"Who are these boys? These 'Marauders'? Anyone I need to keep an eye out for?" she asked, attempting to play her part. McGonagall seemed to buy it; maybe she was a better actress than she thought. _

_"Probably, dear. They are vicious pranksters, and as a new professor you can be sure they'll try to pull one over on you…"_

_As McGonagall went on to list, in fairly descriptive detail, the pranks the Marauders had play throughout the years, and on whom, Hermione tuned her out._

_**I wasn't supposed to come back this far. They were supposed to be finished with school by now. **_

_One error in her time traveling calculations, a few turns too many of the hour glass, and now she reaped the consequences. Consequences that included having to teach ones James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and Lily Evans. _

_Oh, and Snape. Didn't that just make for a lovely game of 'Let's-See-How-Many-People-We-Know-In-the-Future-We-Can-Meet-In-the-Past'._

_But the more Hermione thought about it, the more she thought it was to her advantage. At least now she had Snape and Wormtail close at hand and didn't have to search the outside world for them. If they weren't already Death Eaters, maybe she could steer them away from Voldemort, and if they were, perhaps she could just take care of them now so they did no further damage. _

_Minerva's voice brought her back to reality._

_"Yes, you will most definitely want to look out for those boys, and punish them accordingly whenever you see fit. They're Gryffindor's all, but as much as I love my cubs, I cannot wait until they are gone from Hogwarts forever."_

Hermione tilted her head back to the ceiling as she absently swished the wine in her goblet and sighed again.

The older students would be entering in a moment. Minerva had already left to wait for the first years on the front steps.

Once again she thought back to the many Sortings she had attended, she didn't think any had had quite such nice weather as this evening's did.

Hermione glanced up and down the Head Table. There were few faces she did not recognize. Those she did were from her own school days, twenty years into the future. Thus they were younger versions than the ones she knew. The Divination professor, however, was different, a woman Hermione had yet to be introduced to. It appeared as though Trelawney had yet to have been hired.

To her left sat Dumbledore and to her right that obnoxious figure of Horace Slughorn, Potions professor and Head of Slytherin. Hermione mentally rolled her eyes at the thought of him. He had been boring her with his incredibly dull brand of conversation for the past fifteen minutes. Thankfully he was now annoying – engaging Sprout in an agricultural dialogue while attempting to display his horrible misguided horticultural knowledge.

She had already an invitation to the 'Slug Club', just as she had in her own time.

_"Grimaldi. Grimaldi. Hmmm…" he had murmured when they had first been introduced. "Where have I heard that name before…"_

_"You haven't." she answered. _

_"No. No, I have…" his face brightened with the illumination of the bulb above his head. "I've got it! You're from the house of Grimaldi are you not?"_

_"No, I'm not."_

_She was ignored as the wide man continued his dissertation. "I visited Monaco this past summer. Wonderful city. Magnificent architecture. That would mean you are muggle-born, correct?"_

_"Incorrect."_

_"This is splendid1 I've never met a muggle-born professor before, nor so young of a professor in general. You must have worked terribly hard to reach where you are. Tell me, what was it like?"_

_"Horace!" Dumbledore had chuckled, "The Lady has been denying your allegations from the beginning. Let her speak "_

_Hermione had pasted on a fake smile for the night and turned it on Slughorn._

_"Really, Horace. I am neither from Monaco nor muggle-born," she had decided against telling people of her true heritage. It wouldn't do to be a muggle-born now, not when she needed all the help she could get in identifying Voldemort's followers. "Though you are in the proper region. And yes, I have worked fairly hard to become a professor at such a young age."_

_"Marvelous! You must come to my next club meeting and tell me all about it! I'm sure you'd enjoy the gathering!"_

_Hermione's fake smile got marginally wider at the invitation, as was expected when one was invited to something another found interested. _

_"I will think about it," she had promised before Dumbledore led her to the next professor to meet. _

**_Oh that man is obnoxious._** Though whether the thought was in reference to Slughorn for being himself or Dumbledore for not saving her sooner, she didn't know.

Above her, the clouds rolled over the ceiling, blanketing the blues with grays and the stars with mist.

"My dear, calm yourself. It won't do to have the children notice a difference between the sky they've left outside and the sky they see in here. Change it quickly; I can hear the students now." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in amusement, lending to the belief that he knew exactly what had caused her mood to change.

Hermione looked up and gasped at the change of the ceiling's fresco. "Did I do that?"

He too turned his eyes to the sky.

"Yes, my dear. But you are nervous – it is understandable." His gaze returned to her and he gave her a kindly smile. "Trust in yourself. All will be well."

And in the light of his grandfatherly gaze she found herself nodding.

"Good. Good." He nodded and clasped her left hand in his own.

As the voices out side the double doors swelled, the Headmaster turned back to face them. And with a nod, the doors flew open of their own accord and the students flooded through the broken damn like waves.

Hermione looked down to her hand.

_Hm. A Lemon Drop from the Headmaster. Imagine that._

With a predatory smile Hermione too turned to the crowd.

This wouldn't be so bad. If she could handle Fred and George she could handle the Marauders. And no one could be worse to teach than Neville Longbottom. And years of experience with an older Snape would help her in dealing with the younger one.

She was Hermione Granger, and she was on a mission.

The students didn't know what they were in for.

_Let the games begin. _

_A/N: Don't forget to review people and tell me what do you think about this one...oh, and I wanted to ask one question to ALL of you: which one do you want to be a concurence for Severus to win affections of Hermione...:_

_ a)Remus Lupin _

_b) Sirius Black,_

_c) James Potter( just in case..)_

_d)Peter Pettigrew...??????????_

_I'm **waiting** for **replies**..._

_P.S. and HUGE thank you for **Laura **, for making this chapter readable.._


	6. Introduction

Disclaimer: not mine...sorry..J.K.Rowling owns it al...

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A/N: Sorry it took so long to update...Holidays and...you understand...

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When the students reached the castle the doors to the Great Hall hung open, ready for their admittance.

Being one of the first off the train, Severus Snape had had first pick of the carriages and then of the seats at the Slytherin table.

He chose one in the middle and on the far side of the table, as always. He preferred the far side so that he might put his back to the wall; he wasn't fond of the idea of someone sneaking up behind him. Not after what had happened his first year. And he did not want something to happen where he wouldn't be able to see it and react properly, which was why he was in the middle, where the view stretched across the Hall in all directions.

Once settled, Severus turned his face to the doors.

_Ah, so she has finally given in. She's not as strong as I had thought. Or hoped. _

His thoughts were tinged with hate and anger at the sight that he was first greeted with.

Lily Evans, the girl he had fancied since first year, was hung on the arm of one of his greatest enemies, James Potter. As the slim beauty threw her head back in laughter Severus let his anger consume him.

How **could** she? How could she, intelligent and witty and perfect as she was, have settled for someone like Potter? It was inconceivable.

She was supposed to have been meant for him, he was the one who appreciated her. Her perfect blend of humor and brains, compassion and kindness, and that lithe body, flowing red hair that always made him think of a waterfall of blood, and eyes that sparkled like emeralds when she was happy and burned grass green when she was incensed.

But deep down, if he cared to admit it to himself (which he didn't), Severus had always known that she would eventually say yes to Potter. Wanker.

If his hatred of James Potter hadn't already swallowed him in previous years, he was sure it would have then.

And to add insult to injury, Potter had stolen the Head position from him, the _rightful_ Head Boy, the one with the grades and without the tendency to break rules (where anyone could catch him doing so), the one who was Qualified for the position.

A red haze settled over Severus's vision and only one thing was clear: James Potter would have to pay.

He knew he shouldn't have changed his routine this morning. He knew he shouldn't have put forth the extra effort to look presentable. All of his saved money had gone to new, crisp black robes that swooshed when he walked and shiny new leather shoes.

He had even spent some time on his hair, pulling it back into with a thong at the back of his neck with a few stray pieces of hair falling in front of his eyes.

He knew he would never be anyone's Prince Charming, but he had tried to at least look as though he was someone important, someone people should take note of.

Someone _she_ should have taken note of. But for her choice she would share in the pain he would inflict on her chosen.

He scowled in their general direction, uninterrupted plans of revenge chasing each other at lightning speed… until an elbow found a home in his stomach.

Glancing to his left Severus followed the elbow up the arm to the head it was attached to.

"What the hell Rosier?!"

Ewan Rosier, Severus's year-mate and current bench-mate, gave him an inscrutable look and then shot a quick glace up at the Head Table, running his hand through his curly brown hair. After another look at the teachers he turned to Severus.

"If mine eyes do not deceive, we have a new Defense Professor… again."

When Rosier looked at the Head table again, Severus followed his gaze.

"What happened to the one we had last year? Rosenberg?"

"Who cares?"

And as Severus turned to study his new professor more closely, he began to agree.

----------()----------

At the nearby Gryffindor table the air was abuzz with tales of what they had all done the past summer.

Sirius Black, proudly holding the title of 'Womanizer of Hogwarts', grinned proudly as he told of his most recent conquests and his and James's most recent prank (which they had pulled only that morning on James's neighbor).

His bright blue eyes and devilish smile had all the girls swooning around him, as his broad shoulders and strong arms and back kept them from falling on the floor at his feet. The shaggy black hair that fell in his eyes completed the "Bad Boy" image.

Boyish in comparison, James Potter, Sirius's best friend, lacked the polished features that Black had, though he was certainly much taller. Lean rather than built, Potter gave off a sense of control and confidence that was hard to ignore. There was an air about him that drew people to him, especially the females of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

One of the said females was sitting by his side. The beautiful Miss Lily Evans. She had resisted his charms for years, but he had finally won her over, just that very day in fact. He grinned at her as she slipped her hand into his beneath the table.

"That was stupid," a voice was heard saying as Sirius finished the slightly embellished tale of their morning escapades. "Someone could have gotten hurt."

Such a sense of reason could have only come from one seventh year Gryffindor, Remus Lupin. Werewolf, Marauder and Prefect extraordinaire.

"Couldn't you have at least used the cloak, even if it was just not to give Ms Anderson a heart attack? Why did you have to break in?"

"Adrenaline, my friend," Sirius replied with a smile. "It's the best feeling in the world and you don't even need to light anything to get it… most of the time. Maybe we'll have to try it someday"

Lily rolled her eyes at the bickering boys. "It had better be a natural buzz," she told them. "If I hear of one of you doing any sort of drugs I'll have McGonagall on you faster than you can say Quidditch."

"It's all right, Lil," James said, seeking to placate his witch. "It was just a bit of fun. Besides, Sirius tried some newt eyes once and was sick for days afterwards. None of us will go near the stuff since."

Sirius rolled his shoulders as if easing some ache. "Yeah, Evans, after what I went through then I'll never look to repeat the experience. But James and I needed some fun today, and that old spinster had it coming, the way she treated us all summer."

Remus shook his head at them. Adrenaline junkies: that was just what the already intemperate troublemakers needed to be.

Though they were his friends, Remus didn't get into nearly as much trouble as Sirius and James did. Built like James, Remus was the second tallest of their group, and the most mature. His sandy blonde hair was cut short this year and as he ran his hand through it, he tried to adjust to its new length.

Shifting his tired grey eyes to the crowd in the Great Hall, Remus hoped to see something interesting. The full moon had only been a few days ago and he was still regaining his strength, but he hadn't regained enough to deal with Sirius when he got an idea in his head.

"What did she do?" asked a somewhat timid voice.

Small and scrawny, with mousy brown hair, a small nose and beady black eyes, Peter Pettigrew, the fourth and final member of the group known as the Marauders, was no where near as attractive as the other three. He lacked the confidence of the others, always worried about what others might thing of him.

His deep set eyes glanced fitfully around the Great Hall, landing on the Slytherin table only once he was sure his friends looked elsewhere.

He caught LeStrange's eye. _Eight o'clock. Be alone._

Peter nodded. He could do that. He could slip his friends at eight. He could do it right this time.

Lily flashed a smile at Peter as he turned his back to their table, oblivious to the meeting he had just scheduled.

_He's always so nervous_, she thought. _I wonder how he can go through with any of their pranks._

She tried to ignore all of the evil looks she had been getting since boarding the train that morning. She had thought she had been prepared to face the hatred of almost all of the other girls in the school, but she supposed she could have been wrong.

Trying not to make eye contact with any of the students, Lily looked up to the Head table to see if she could spot their new professor.

A woman, young from what she could gather, with brown hair that looked red in the candle light and black in the shadows.

In all honesty, Lily's eyes weren't much better than James's, though she only wore her glasses for reading.

----------()----------

From her seat at the High table Hermione had an uninterrupted view of the Great Hall. She studied the four house tables and their entering occupants carefully. These would be her students in the morning.

Once the Hall was filled she gave each table a once over, searching for anyone else she might know or know of in the future. Her gaze lingered on two tables in particular, Slytherin and Gryffindor.

Once she spotted him, through a gap in the monstrous bulk of some of the Slytherins', Snape was easy to recognize. _Looks like his hair has always been greasy…_

The Gryffindors were easier to find, but much more difficult to look at

Peter Pettigrew… there were no words. _Conniving bastard, I'll deal with you later._

Upon seeing James, Hermione had to fight to stay in her seat, wanting nothing more than to run over screaming "Harry! Harry!"

_He's not Harry. You must remember that. He is James. James Potter. There is a difference between them. There must be, for your sake and theirs._

The red head next to him unsettled her for two reasons. The first, her shining locks reminded her of Ginny Weasley as she had last seen her, lying in a pool of her own blood. The second, Harry's eyes were only to be seen on Harry's face. Seeing them on Lily Evans's decidedly more delicate and feminine face was unnerving. As was the look she was now getting from those eyes.

Shifting her gaze slowly enough that it would seem as though she was just moving on, Hermione focused on Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. The sight of them was almost too much.

Pettigrew she had only known personally for a short while, about two hours. Lily and James were just stories she had been told. But Remus and Sirius… she tried to hold back the tears that threatened when she thought of all she had been through with them.

They looked so young here, unburdened by the things that would etch lines into their familiar faces, and so healthy. Sirius wasn't gaunt now like he was when she had known him. And Remus, though he looked tired, didn't seem to be even a fourth as weary now as he would be in the future.

_This is what they should have looked like. They shouldn't have been hardened the way they had. They shouldn't have been shades of these teenage boys._

Remus had been her favorite Defense professor, his classes had been the most interesting she had ever been in aside from Sanpe's. She hoped that she would be even half as good as a teacher to him as he was to her. She would do her best not to let him down, not to let Dumbledore down.

She turned her eyes from the Gryffindor table with a mix a of regret and hope, tuning back into the conversation being held at the Staff table

"Oh thank you my dear, I do so appreciate it, you really have no idea," Slughorn's voice praised her as his large, sweaty hands gripped one of hers.

_Oh shit. _

"You just saved my life, my dear. No! Scratch that, you've just given me my life back. I really cannot thatnk you enough."

_What the hell had she gotten into?_

She nodded at him, a false little unsure smile playing about her mouth. There was no turning back now.

"Of course, Horace. It isn't a problem."

Politely slipping her hand from his, she turned to Dumbledore, her eyes bordering on panicked.

"What did I…?" she began.

"Shh, my dear, it's alright. You've just agreed to fill in for Horace as Head of Slytherin during the weekends." He smiled benevolently at her though his eyes twinkled with mischief. "He's been trying to find someone to do this for a few years now. I believe you are the first to agree."

"Why? He spends all year at the school just like all of the other teachers. Why should he get weekends off when others don't?" she whispered heatedly.

"Clam yourself, my dear. Horace is one of our older professors and has been thinking of retiring for some time now. As a Potion's Master he spent many weekends at conferences and symposiums before he began to teach and would like to do so again. He's been teaching here for ten years now and feels though he has become a bit "out-of-touch" with the new discoveries being made in the field. You are the first to give him a chance to return to the conferences."

_Wonderful. Bloody wonderful. I'm stuck babysitting the Slytherins every weekend for the rest of the year… But perhaps it won't be so bad. It's the perfect opportunity to turn them – destroy those who won't. Though I can't really see Snape knocking on my door at two in the morning to spill his soul to me._

She smiled internally at the thought.

_His nightie would be long and gray, no, black, but dingy with age…_

Hermione's musings were interrupted Professor McGonagall – Minerva's – entrance into the Hall. She carried a three legged stool and a beat-up old wizard's hat and was followed by a string of young children.

_I don't remember being so small when I was a first year…_

The eleven year olds looked around the Hall in awe, amazed by the floating candles and night sky above them.

"Lovely," the Headmaster chuckled, rubbing his hands together like a maniac. "My favorite part of the feast, the Sorting." He leaned over to her and whispered conspiratorially, "The faculty always has a friendly bet on the Sorting, how many students to each house, who will be put in what House based on their family history and all that. Would you like to join? "

Hermione smiled at him. She would win, they both knew it. In her time this had already happened and she already knew most of the answers.

Minerva cleared her throat and Hermione turned her attention back to the entertainment at hand. Minerva opened the scroll and began to read off names.

Ten minutes later Hermione had won seven bets, having correctly placed three in Hufflepuff, two in Ravenclaw, one in Slytherin and one in Gryffindor – Kingsley Shacklebolt.

_Why didn't Kingsley ever tell Harry that he knew his parents?_

A few minutes more and the Sorting was finished. Dumbledore stood to make his beginning of term speech.

"Welcome to our new students and welcome back to those of you who are returning. A few announcements before our feast begins: the name of the Forbidden Forest is quite apropos, for it is quite forbidden. A list of forbidden items can be found tacked to Mr. Filch's office door… And this year our Head Boy and Girl are Mr. James Potter and Miss Lily Evans, respectively…"

After a few more general announcements she was introduced.

"Now please join me in welcoming our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor -" Hermione stood "- Ms Hermione Grimaldi."

She fought to keep a calm expression on her face as she glanced around the Hall. It would have been so much easier if… she hadn't been hearing catcalls from the – _Ravenclaw Table_?

----------()----------

Since turning away from the Gryffindors, Severus had been trying to see the new professor. He finally got his chance when she stood to be introduced.

When she did he took the opportunity to take her in, raking his eyes up and down her form and then back again. And he wasn't the only one. It seemed as though every other teen red-blooded male in the Hall did the same.

No one could blame them either. Not when a woman who looked like _that_ showed up at a boarding school.

She couldn't have been more than twenty Severus decided, perhaps twenty-one. Her hair, brown with red, blonde and black highlights, was pulled away from her face in a sophisticated French twist, though a few strands had freed themselves to frame her face attractively.

And her robes flattered her figure. A wide black belt that stretched from just below her breast to just above her hips was strapped over a pale gray dress with long, flowing sleeves and a leather vest in the same shade of gray. Looped around her waist and hips was a thinner black belt, this one with runes stamped into the leather and gilded in silver.

The thick belt around her abdomen showed off her slender waist and ample breasts while the long graceful skirt and sleeves gave her the look of a medieval sorceress, gentle and fragile. But one look into her eyes showed that she was nothing of the sort. The stories her eyes told to any willing to look hard enough were of growing up hard and fast because death was an ever present companion. They told tales of battles and blood baths, hatred and ridicule.

She was no gentle lady to be protected. If anything, she would be the one doing the protecting.

Like males all across the Hall, Sirius Black was having a hard time tearing his eyes away from the new teacher.

"Damn," he muttered. "I'd do her – Ow! What the hell was that for Moony?" he exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head where Remus' hand had made contact.

"She's your professor, you dolt! You can't _do_ her!"

"Oh please, like the same idea didn't cross your mind."

"Oh but it didn't, dear Padfoot," James grinned. "You know our Moony, he would never betray his precious books for a taste of physical pleasure – Ow! What the hell was that for Lily?"

Lily rolled her eyes at the pair of boys rubbing the backs of their scalps. "I'm dating an idiot," she muttered.

James just smiled and leaned in and kissed her cheek. "But I'm a cute idiot."

She smiled ruefully.

Remus' eyes lingered on Professor Grimaldi for a few moments more, watching her as she sat down. His eyes locked with hers once she was settled. He couldn't hold the contact for more than a second before he felt a blush rise to his cheeks.

Padfoot was right, she _was_ attractive.

With a sigh he turned his attention back to his house-mates and the food that had appeared before them.

The Feast had begun.

The Feast was almost over when Dumbledore remembered to tell Hermione that as the professor with the closest quarters to theirs, it was her duty to show the Head Boy and Girl their new dormitories.

"They are located in the Egypt Hall, behind the portrait of the Sphinx, and they are to set the password themselves. Please remind them that it must be something others will not think of try if attempting to get in. Hurry now, they've just walked out the door."

"Well, well, well, lookie who we have here Wormtail! Snivellus, ol'mate!"

Severus stopped his trek to the dungeons. _Black_. Trust him to cause trouble the first night.

"Such a pity I cannot say the same to you, Black."

"Aww, you disappoint me, Sevvie," Sirius pouted.

"Don't get too upset Black, you _do _have hands. I'm sure the thought of me will help you along if you just use your hands." Severus smirked at Sirius from across the Entrance Hall.

Sirius gave a silent snarl and stalked across the Hall, drawing his wand.

Lily, James, and Remus appeared just as he reached him.

"Would the two of you stop it?!" Lily cried, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Hasn't this gone on long enough?!"

Hermione exited the Great Hall in time to hear Sirius' first comment and had stopped in the shadows once she heard Lily's anguished cry Perhaps Lily would be able to sort this out.

On second thought… Snape and Sirius stood no more than a few inches apart, each with their wand drawn and pointed at the other's heart. And a crowd had begun to gather, a few older Slytherins stood behind her former Potions professor while the Marauders and a few other Gryffindors had taken their place behind Sirius. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws in the audience were scattered around the sides.

The air seemed to crackle with magic and hate the longer the murderous pair stood there. This had gone on long enough, someone might get hurt.

"Enough," she stated clearly, her skirt flowing about her ankles as she exited the shadows. "Put your wands away."

Neither moved.

"Do not make me draw mine, I promise you will not like the consequences."

As if mirroring each other they slowly lowered their wands.

"Better. I had hoped my first point deduction would come after the term had begun. You have exactly two minutes to get to your dorms before I lose my wish and take ten points from everyone in this hall."

The crowd scattered.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Evans," she called as they too began to retreat, "if you would follow me please. I am to show you your new quarters for the term."

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A/N: next chapter is on the way….This story will be updated once in two weeks, maybe even faster…who knows…but I will definetly finish it.


	7. First lesson:Part One

_**Disclaimer**:_do NOT own a thing...

_**A/N**: _I will edit some cannon mistakes in the previouse chapter in a day or two, I didn't had enough time to do this before...sorry...Here's the next one, hope you'll like it :-) and Thank ALL of you for reading and leaving such a wonderful reviews!

_The dark Scotland midnight was usually silent but for the rustle of underbrush as a fox stalked its prey. _

_But not on this night._

_Flashes of multicolored lights and the noise that accompanied them turned midnight into twilight and the silence was shattered by the cries of the fallen and their assailants. _

_The green hillside was washed with blood, bodies were strewn everywhere, some with visible causes and others with none at all. Black robes here, green robes there, blue robes off in the distance, a Beitie Bott's box of the dead. _

_Friends and enemies were given no distinction as corpses were pushed out of the way to clear room to fight – and to flee. _

_A flash of light caught Hermione's eye, and she turned in time to see Ron Weasley fall as Bellatrix Lestrange laughed maniacally on the other end of her wand. _

_He dropped to his knees, one hand bracing himself on the ground while the other grasped at his chest as if he was clawing at something there. His body shook violently as blood spilled from the corner of his mouth and dripped from his nose. _

_**No! Not now!** This wasn't happening. It was all a horrible horrible dream and she would wake up soon to her dorm-room. She _had not_ just lost Harry and_ _Ron within minutes of each other._

_She rushed toward the fallen red-head, the battle raging on all sides as she fought her way through the carnage. _

_It seemed she spent hours tripping over the dead but, at the same time, in seconds she was at his side. _

_They had been fighting for hours now, maybe days… she couldn't really remember anymore. All she knew was that Harry was gone. She hadn't seen him fall, but she had heard the screams as he dueled with Voldemort, had seen the violent multicolored lights from their direction. _

_Bellatrix clamed her laughter and smiled, a wicked smile that echoed the madness in her gleaming eyes, as she raised her wand for one final curse._

_"NOOOO!" _

_It wasn't until later that she would realize that the voice who had screamed had been hers._

_She ran for him as fast as she could, cutting down everyone in her path. Then, as she looked toward Ron again a green light fell on LeStrange from behind, her cackling black silhouette against an eerie aura borealis before the cruse hit her squarely in the back. She toppled forward in death. _

_Behind where she had stood was Draco Malfoy, his once pristine person coated in bloody mix of gore and mud as blood dripped from a gash on his face that stretched from his temple to his neck. _

_Quickly he ran to where she sat, cradling Ron against her chest as she rocked him softly. Ron gave a sudden gasp and gripped Hermione's arm tightly. He opened his mouth as if to say something but then closed it. He couldn't speak. He couldn't even breathe. _

_The curse Bellatrix had hit him with had severed all of the major veins and arteries in his body, leaving his blood to flow free through his body. He was drowning in blood from the inside. _

_Standing, Draco stripped off what was left of his robes and covered Ron with them, and then turned to face the footsteps of someone coming toward them, prepared to fight for all of their lives. _

_"How dare you?" an incensed Lucius Malfoy hissed as he stalked toward the three. "How dare you disgrace the honorable Malfoy name by consorting with mudbloods and blood-traitors?"_

_"**Honorable**?" Draco asked incredulously, his voice hoarse from the screaming he had done. "Our name has not been honorable,_ Father_-" he all but spit the word "-since you attached it to that undying reptilian monstrosity!"_

_Their screams of rage drew the attention of those fighting around them. But Hermione wasn't distracted. Her best friend was dying in her arms. _

_"No Ron, you can't go. You can't leave me. Please don't leave me!" she wailed._

_The desperation in her voice turned the younger Malfoy's attention back to her, and as he met her emotionless eyes he knew what had been lost. He glanced at the body in her arms – who knew the boy had so many freckles? – the absence of blood in his face bleached the skin enough that they were all visible. Ronald Weasley was dead. _

_"Malfoy!" she shouted, "Look out!"_

_The sound of her voice brought him back to reality in time to see his father fall to the ground, his throat neatly sliced by a dagger. _

_"_Protego!" _a resonating voice rang out over the battle field. Draco heaved a sigh of relief as he saw his godfather alive and striding toward them. "Draco!" Even with tattered robes he made them billow. "Get her out of here!" _

_Draco did not need to be told twice. Grasping Hermione's arms he tried to pull her up, away from the redheaded corpse. _

_"_**NOW! Draco!**_" _

_He looked up, startled. He had never heard Severus' voice sound quite like that. Filled with anger, occasionally; frustration, almost daily; but he had never heard the fear he now did in his godfather's voice. _

_Fearful himself, more of what his godfather would do to him if he did not get Granger to safety then what would happen to them should they remain on the field, he doubled his efforts to pry her away fro her friend. Managing to pull her to her feet, he swept his arm beneath her knees and began to run with her toward the castle. _

_"Draco put me down," she told him, "I'll run with you."_

_He set her on her feet but quickly pushed her off them as a jet of light sailed above their heads. _

_Jumping up as soon as the light had passed, they began once more toward the castle, staying low to the ground on order to avoid any more poorly aimed spells. _

_Huffing as they opened a secret entrance to the dungeons, they slid through the entrance, and hurried through the secret corridor until they reached one they were familiar with. Flying through the corridors, skidding around corners and mounting the stairs two and three at a time, they reached the ground floor as fast as possible. _

_By the time they had reached the corridor off the Entrance Hall they could hear the angry male voices behind them. _

_Draco made a shooing motion with his hands as he turned to face the way they had come. _

_As though the castle sensed their flight, the stair cases could be seen rearranging themselves into a single case up to the sixth floor and their goal: the Transfiguration professor's office. _

_"No! I won't go alone!"_

_"Yes, you will! I'll cover for you as long as I can."_

_"No, I can't…"_

_In a quick move he turned back to her and grabbed her face in his hands. _

_"Listen to me," he said, pulling her closer until they were only a few centimeters apart. "If there is any chance that anyone can get us out of this entire goddamn mess it's you. Only you. You can do it. You have to." _

_He gave her a tight smile._

_"Go, Hermione," he whispered._

_She took a deep breath, nodded, and began to pull away. _

_With a quick tug she was back in his arms and her lips were against his as he willed her to understand all that he had left unsaid. _

_It ended as suddenly as it began and without a word he pushed her through the old oak door that lead to the stairs and warded it behind her. _

_Hermione stumbled on the other side. What had just happened? _

_She shook her head. She didn't have time to think about it now. She'd deal with it later. If there was a later._

_Gripping her wand in a white knuckled fist she turned and began to climb the stairs… _

Hermione's eyes opened suddenly as her dream self's foot hit the first stair. She was drenched in a cold sweat and shaking beneath her mountain of blankets. This particular replaying of the final battle bothered her most; not because of the death of Harry and Ron, or even Draco's kiss. No, it was because she had seen something in Snape's eyes when he had told Draco to get her off the field. Something that had frightened her with its intensity and puzzled her with its abnormality….

Pushing her blankets off her, Hermione sat up and turned to dangle her legs off the end of the bed. She looked at the clock on the wall across from her. Four-thirty a.m. She groaned as she flopped back down onto her pillow.

There was still three and a half hours before breakfast would be served.

A heavy sleeper by nature, these nightmares had had her waking up at all odd hours of the night since she had gone back in time; that had been nearly a week ago now.

These replayed memories, sometimes twisted and perverted further than they already were, were really cutting into her beauty sleep. Madam Pomfrey had already threatened to speak with the Headmaster if asked for a Pepper-Up or a Dreamless Sleep potion again.

With another groan Hermione rolled herself off the bed and onto the cold marble floor – much easier than sitting up then standing and then sitting back down on the floor.

Now that she was awake (and knew from past experience that she would not be able to go back to sleep), she might as well put her extra time to use.

First came crunches: one-hundred regular, one-hundred side to side, one-hundred with one leg up and then one-hundred with the other one. Next were push ups and planks: fifty regular push up, fifty on her knuckles, fifty with one arm and fifty with the other and then a plank held for three minute. These were followed by forty-five minutes or so of strengthening Yoga exercises she had done with her mother when she was younger.

An hour and a half after she had fist looked at the clock Hermione had finished her daily exercise routine.

She took her time in the shower, washing her hair and her body and letting the hot water and steam loosen all the muscles she had just worked and strengthened. It was relaxing, a good way to start the day when her first class after breakfast was seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins.

Reluctantly turning off the taps, Hermione stepped out of the shower and grabbed a fluffy white towel the elves had left and began drying herself. Wrapping it loosely around her body, she walked over to her sink. A quick swipe of her hand rid the mirror of enough steam that she could see herself. Another towel, slightly smaller but just as fluffy, sat on the counter. She grabbed it and passed it over her hair as she walked back into her bedroom.

Standing before one of her redwood wardrobes, Hermione was faced with a bit of a problem: Of the many clothes Albus had provided for her, what should she wear?

After a few moments deliberation, Hermione let the towels fall and pulled out a navy blue dress. Floor length, long sleeved and turtle necked, the dress only showed the skin on her face and hands but did nothing to hide her figure. And with its full skirt, the dress allowed for mobility and the soft fabric insured that it was comfortable.

And she was all about being comfortable. If she had had her way she would have worn jeans and a tee-shirt every day of her life. But she didn't think it would be such a good idea to wear muggle clothes in front of pureblood bigots when she had already told some that she was not muggle born.

As an after thought she pulled out a duster-like black leather coat. Worked into being the softest leather available, it was thin with a warm lining on the inside and tiny silver buttons that lined the front of the coat from just below her breasts down to her waist. It fit like it had been made for her. Which, she thought, it probably had.

Dumbledore had never exactly said _he_ had gotten her the clothes that filled her wardrobes, but he hadn't denied or brushed aside her thanks once she had discovered them. She was beginning to believe that it had been the castle, not her fellow Guardian, who had given her things to wear.

With a snap, Hermione pulled to coat on over her dress. Giving a quick twirl before the mirror on the inside of the armoire door, Hermione let out a small laugh as both the dress and the coat twirled around her.

She would even bet that if she walked quickly the coat would billow behind her like a certain ex-Potion professor's robes.

To finish the ensemble she pulled on a pair of knee high, black, leather boots that really made her feel like a woman with their pointy toes, high heels and decorative silver buckles.

Back in the bathroom she ran a brush through her hair and absently pulled it back into a messy bun. With a quick bit of lip-balm and a bit more eye-liner, Hermione checked her reflection one last time before turning to leave her rooms for breakfast.

September first fell on a Wednesday this year, thus classes began on Thursday. But, Hermione was shocked to discover, the students were given these first two days of the fall term to as a trial of sorts for their classes. Only required to attend their morning classes, the students were able to get a feel of what their courses would be like and were then able to drop or change any of their elective courses.

_Who screwed this up for my generation?_ she wondered.

According to the regular schedule, Hermione would see the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins on Wednesday first thing after breakfast and then for a double period Friday afternoons. So, apart from breaking up the potential fight outside of the Great Hall the first night and leading James and Lily to their dormitories, she had yet to have a chance to see the seventh years she most interested in.

Thus it was now September eight and she was shaking with nerves as she waited for, dreaded her first period class.

Hermione entered the Great Hall through the staff entrance and greeted her colleagues as she passed behind them. Taking her place between Albus and Slughorn, Hermione's nose was quickly lured toward the steaming goblet that sat just to the right of her plate.

Could it really be? A quick look at Dumbledore confirmed her suspicions.

"One of best things to drink in the morning, don't you agree?" His eyes twinkled as he sipped the same dark liquid from his own goblet. "Muggles have simply outdone themselves in its creation."

Hermione grabbed her own goblet and took a sip of the steaming drink. She let her eyes slip closed as the dark brown liquid warmed her from the inside.

Coffee.

She hadn't had a good cup in _ages_.

Having been denied it in her dentist run home, she had become addicted to the caffeinated beverage since setting out with Harry and Ron on their search for the Horcruxes. But it seemed as though only Harry was adept enough to brew it because he had had so much practice at the Dursleys. She had never found anyone who could match his skills.

"Indeed, Headmaster," she answered after a few more sips. Reluctantly replacing the goblet on the table she began to fill her plate with toast, eggs, and bacon.

After a few moment of eating in silence Hermione turned to Albus once more. "Where might I find a Boggart, Headmaster?" she asked. "I would like to show the third years one next week as they seem to have never heard of one. And I thought I might as well show the fourth and fifth years as well."

"I'm sure we have one or two somewhere around the castle, Hermione. I'll send Argus off to find one after breakfast."

"Thank you, sir."

"And how do you find the rest of your classes?" he asked as he gazed out over the semi-filled House tables.

"Honesty, so far I've only been impressed with the first years, which is really quite depressing when you think on it. Those from Wizarding backgrounds know some and those who are not are catching on quickly. But the other years… Last week I told all my classes to make a list of spells, creatures, and curses they had learned in past years. These that I have gotten back have been frighteningly short. Apart from school yard hexes and jinxes, they really don't know much."

"Seventh years as well?"

"Yesterday I had the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs for the first time, so I haven't gotten their lists back. But the class looks promising. With the intelligence of the Ravenclaws and the dedication of the Hufflepuffs, I think that after a few weeks of review they'll be ready to be taught something new."

Looking back down at her plate, she pushed some eggs around before taking a bite of toast.

"And the Gryffindors and Slytherins?"

As she swallowed the lump in her throat Hermione wasn't sure whether or not it was just her toast or toast and dread.

"I have them next," she answered, setting her fork down on her plate. "This will be the first time I will have seen them, but I have a feeling they might be a _tad_ bit further than the rest of the school. At least I'm sure some of them will be."

He nodded and grinned behind his beard as turned back to his own meal.

They finished their food in silence, listening to the other professors' gossip and complaints about the students.

After a few more minutes, Hermione began to push herself away from the table. Suddenly a bony had gripped her right wrist.

"I have organized a… gathering I believe you would be interested in attending," he told her, his fingers lightly drumming the inside of her wrist.

She understood. He had set up a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix.

"Of course, Headmaster."

"Splendid, it will be tomorrow evening in my office. Eight o'clock."

"I will be there."

From her office adjoining her classroom, Hermione could hear the students chattering as they took their seats. She decided last week, before her very first class, that she would enter all of her new classes once the students were already there. It made the best impression when one was attempting to cultivate respect.

A little trick she had learned from Snape.

Standing at the door between the two rooms Hermione took a few deep breaths as she tried to calm herself.

_You can do this, Hermione. Some of them in there are different than your other students, but you **must** treat them the same._

Passing through the door Hermione stood on the balcony above her class. They fell silent as row by row they realized she was there.

Once she had their attention she took a moment to study how they had divided themselves.

From her vantage point the Gryffindors had taken residence on the left side of the center aisle, leaving the Slytherins the right. Two rows of desks, five desks in each row with each desk setting two people led to a maximum of twenty seats. Sixteen were filled.

The back two desks were both occupied by students she didn't know, as were the ones right in front of them. In the third row away from her on the Gryffindor side sat Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. Right in front of them were the Head Boy and the Head Girl, leaving the front desk to Remus Lupin alone. On the Slytherin side, the third row was occupied by two more students she would have to learn the names of. Severus Snape mirrored Remus in his solidarity in the front row.

She wondered why they were silent. Was it because they had heard of her teaching style from other years or because they were eager to see what she would do first? Had they been told anything? She was sure they had.

She had shocked a few students who had believed she would be an easy teacher like those they had had in the past. They weren't prepared for her quick commentary and harsh reprimands.

Her style was pulled from the two men in the front row. She could be as biting as Snape but as captivating as Lupin. She didn't want to bore the students like Binn's, but push them to take the initiative to do things on their own.

But she couldn't be as cruel to them as Snape was to her and her friends. She couldn't alienate the Slytherins like he had done to the Gryffindors in her time. She needed them to trust her enough to confide in her so that she might help them later.

She hoped the Gryffindors would come to trust her as well, but she was not as concerned about their conviction in her as she was with their rival house's. They should be fine without her help.

She made her way down the staircase to the class floor. She walked around the front of her desk and leaned back on it as she surveyed them, arms crossed over her chest just relaxed enough that she didn't seem nervous.

Once she was sure all eyes were on her, she began.

"Let me begin by stating the obvious: I am your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Outside of this school I am Hermione Grimaldi, inside I am Professor Grimaldi or simply Professor.

"Now that we have that taken care of, we'll move on to some things you are less likely to know. I am not here to be your friend. I am your professor, Slytherins, I am also your Head of House on the weekends for the rest of this year.

"There is a chance, perhaps a high chance, that you will not like me. There is also a fair certainty that I will not like some of you. But that is inconsequential.

"I am here to insure that you learn something this year, which could, judging by the lack of experience your peers seem to have, set an unheard of precedent for this subject. Shall we see if you change my mind?" A small, almost evil smile played about her mouth at their wide eyes.

"What is the difference between a Dementor and a Boggart and how would one deal with each?"

"OHH! I know!" came an overly anxious male voice.

Sirius Black grinned boyishly at her as he stood in the aisle next to his seat, Pettigrew trying vainly to pull him back down.

"Interesting," she intoned as she pushed off her desk. Striding down the center aisle, Hermione stopped half a meter from black, right near James's seat.

"I know a lot of other _interesting_ things as well, Professor," he said with a wink. "I'd be happy to _show _you a few pointers in a private study session."

"Honestly, Mr.…"

"Black, Sirius Black. Ready and willing to be at your service, anyplace, anytime."

"Well, Mr. Black, if you insist on a demonstration, kindly proceed to the front of the room. I'm sure your peers would benefit greatly from your _knowledge_."

That wiped the smirk off his face.

Jaw slightly open, he sputtered a few times before looking down at James. His friend's only response was a poorly disguised snigger. Sirius would be getting no help from him.

With a sigh Sirius followed Hermione to the fore of the room.

Standing before her desk, facing the class, Sirius couldn't help but fidget a bit as this small but commanding woman circled him, sizing him up. He couldn't have possibly known that she was trying to decide what to do with him.

After a circle and a half she hit upon something. She would ask him to perform the Patronus charm. After all, he had said that knew how to deal with a Demntor.

If she remembered properly, and she usually did, Harry had once told her that only Remus had been able to produce a real Patronus, faint those it was, by the end of the Marauders's fifth year.

She hoped that still held true.

"Mr. Black, if you are able to show your class a fully functional Patronus charm, I will release you of your obligation to attend this class for the rest of the year and personally give you an 'O' on your N.E.W.T.s."

It was a risky move, but she was fairly certain he wouldn't know what she was talking about.

And judging by the look on his face, he really didn't.

"Mr. Black?" she asked sweetly.

He stammered some reply, searching the room for someone to give him the answer. He got it from Remus Lupin.

"_Expecto Patronum,_" he mouthed to his friend.

Hermione grinned.

_Perfect. _

"Ten points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn, Mr.…"

"Lupin, Professor," Remus answered sheepishly, his eyes firmly glued to his desk as a blush rose to his cheeks.

"And five points to Gryffindor for knowing the correct incantation."

His eyes briefly met hers in surprise before he quickly turned them back down.

Granted it was normally Sirius and James losing the points, but Remus had lost a few over the years as well.

He didn't know why he was acting so shy.

Scratch that. Yes he did.

This new professor was intelligent and aesthetically attractive, two qualities that few he had ever met had. One of those people happened to be Lily Evans. But not only was she James's girlfriend and therefore "off-limits," she wasn't really attractive to him. She was nice, sure, but not someone who interested him romantically.

But this woman was.

Not only was she beautiful and smart, but she was powerful. His heightened senses allowed him to have an understanding of the depths others' magical powers, and she was comparable to McGonagall and Dumbledore, despite the obvious age difference.

And perhaps, with all that power and the knowledge she seemed to have of Defense Against the Dark Arts, she wouldn't be afraid of him.

"Mr. Black, if you would kindly take your seat?"

"But I knew the answer, I just…"

"Another word, Mr. Black, and I will deduct another five points for disrespecting a professor's wishes. Now, get back to your place."

Sirius's shoulders hunched as he piteously made his way back to his seat.

James gave his friend a roughish smile as he walked pass and tried to comment on their new professor's treatment of his friend but was quickly shushed by Lily.

The red head liked the woman already. Lily knew that, despite her strict words, Professor Grimaldi would teach them all she could about the Dark Arts and how to protect themselves against them and not sugar-coat particularly Dark topics like their previous professors had done. Lily was excited to learn what the professor had to teach.

"Put your wands away," Hermione told the class, "there will be no need for them in today's lesson. From this point forward, all wands are to be put away as soon as you walk through that door," Hermione tilted her head slightly toward the door they had come in.

"You are only to take them out when I tell you to. There will be no 'foolish-wand-waving' unless I directly tell you to do so," she finished, watching Snape as she said this last.

He met her gaze with interest, filing away every word she said.

He had been watching her for the past week now, and he was fairly certain he had never met anyone quite her. There was something _wrong_ with her… he just wasn't sure what.

He had taken to sitting closer to the Staff Table during meals, and when she wasn't speaking with the other professors, he noticed that her eyes would get a far off look in them, as if she was looking over a great distance. She wasn't in Hogwarts in those moments, not mentally at least.

Severus had always enjoyed puzzles and riddles. This young, commanding woman was one, and he would not rest until he found out what secrets she held.

And the way she had dealt with Black? She was definitely going to be worth his time.

"Let me assure you, I am not paid to play referee to your House squabbles. I am paid to teach you how to survive if you should come upon a Dark wizard or creature, which is becoming increasingly common these days."

She walked around her desk and sat at her chair, with her elbows on the arm rests and the tips of her steepled fingers resting against her chin. Another bit she had picked up from Snape.

"And let me clarify one last thing, you will do _exactly _as I tell you. The spells and curses I will be teaching you can be extremely dangerous. So when I say 'jump,' the only thing I want to hear is 'How high?' Am I understood?"

The class nodded and Peter Pettigrew squirmed.

He didn't like intimidating people unless they were on his side. She wasn't. He had a bad feeling about this class.

"Now, does anyone have any general questions about this course?"

**A/N: Important**: I would like to ask all of you one thing: Please imagine, that you are in this class with Hermione ( we all know, that the questions won't be about the curse at all :-)..."What would you like to ask your new DADA Professor?"(about , or not about the course...)  
I will add all of your questions into the next chapter, which already ia half written. Have your time to think untill the Tuesday night...Chapter will be sent to beta in Wednesday.


	8. Chapter 8 Coming soon :

Hello my dear readers…I am deeply sorry that I haven't been able to update my story for so long. There's so much happened for the last couple of years, I've got married ,finished my studies and had the most beautiful baby girl in the world :)

But enough about me, and back to the story ..I've finally got the inspiration to write again plan to upload couple of next chapters in the next few weeks. But it seem like I've lost contacts with my Beta….So if anyone willing to help, I'll be waiting for your email.


	9. First lesson:Part Two

_**Disclaimer**:_do NOT own a thing...J. owns it all, exept my imagination :P

_**A/N I wanted to say **:A BIG BIG thank YOU to_** knitchick **for making this thing readable and ** Nimidias **for going through once again :-)

Hopefully you will like it , so don't forget to let me know your thoughts about this :-)

First Lesson: Part Two

Remus scolded himself, trying to remember the last time he had lost house points for Gryffindor. In fifth year maybe.

He really liked the Defense against the Dark Arts course. He had so many questions spinning in his head, so many things he wanted to ask. He wanted to make up for those lost points, to show his Professor that he knew something on the subject. But once again …

"Exactly how old are you?"

_Black_.

Hermione looked at him angrily, trying to think of a way to knock him down a peg or two without hurting his feelings too badly at the same time … if that were even possible.

He would be a pain in her _derriere_ that's for sure. He never grew up, nor, she realized with a slight pang, _would_ he ever. She wasn't that surprised after all.

Her age, or lack of, was her biggest hurdle, she had known that coming into this job, but honestly, she had been hoping for something more tangible from the class. A test of sorts, that would prove she knew what she was talking about … she had expected questions like '_Have you ever faced a dark wizard'_ or '_What curses should we expect in the real world?' _

Instead she was forced to deal with immature, testosterone riddled, males with less sense than a hippogriff.

"Didn't I just ask …. and I will repeat myself for those with hearing problems," she added with a pointed look in Sirius' direction, "Does anyone have any _general_ questions about this course?"

The rest of the class sat in uncomfortable silence. Either wondering what to ask, or, counting the minutes until the end of the lesson. Finally, after of moment of silence, she saw one hand raised … a Slytherin hand … a very _recognizable_ Slytherin hand.

'Yes, mister … ?" She kept up the pretense that she had no idea who he was, and had to remind herself not to react._ Keep up appearances, honey, keep them up._

"Snape … Severus Snape." He stood up, smoothing his greasy hair back with shaking hands. He was nervous. Why? He had no idea.

She looked at him carefully, not knowing what to expect, but confident that he would ask something interesting or intelligent at least.

"Will you tell us a little bit more than Black could about the _Patronus_ _Charm?_" He couldn't resist a quick look in Black's direction, it wasn't every day that one of the Gryffindor Golden Boy's got figuratively 'slapped down' in front of his peers.

"That's a very good question, Mr. Snape. Please sit down and I'll elaborate." she added with a nod.

He could not resist a little smirk. Or maybe not so little.

"A _Patronus_ is a _protector_, and is a weapon rather than a _predator_ of souls" She began her explanation.

_Must try to not sound like a walking encyclopedia, _she reminded herself_. Not now. _She continued speaking while walking between the rows, pleased to see that some of the students had started taking notes.

"_Patronus_ shield their conjurors from Dementors, and if strong enough, a fully formed _Corporeal Patronus_ can drive them away completely. The conjured _Patronus_ protects the witch or wizard that summoned it, obeys his or her commands, and fades away when it is no longer required."

She stopped near the Head Girl's desk.

Lily was writing frantically, trying to absorb all the new information. Hermione looked at her, and for a moment stopped talking. When Lily looked up, after the silence had dragged on longer than it should have, Hermione forgot the words she was going to say. Those green eyes reminded her painfully of Harry. Not even seeing James Potter in the Great Hall had affected her this deeply, releasing emotions she hadn't been prepared for_. _

_Emotions that interfered with her sleep for the past week_.

But she needed to go on. She took a deep breath and shoved all thoughts of her friend into the back of her mind and resumed speaking.

"… A _Patronus_ is a positive force. The form it takes tells quite a bit about your personality, or reflects particularly strong emotions you have for another. You will need to think of a memory. Not just any memory, a very happy memory, a very _powerful_ memory …" she paused for a moment.

"Have you ever been happy, Mr. Snape?" She knew she was putting him on the spot, but couldn't help herself.

And that wiped the smirk right off his face.

"Ouch that's going to hurt." she heard James whisper as he leaned back at his chair grinning broadly, "Maybe she's not that bad after all."

"I do not think that my answer is relevant to this topic." In a second, Snape, the confident Slytherin, was gone. _No,_ was the correct answer, but he was not going to repeat _that_ out loud.

"How so?" Hermione leaned back on her desk and took out her wand from inside her robe, more curious that she wanted to admit.

"The topic is the _Patronus Charm, _and in my opinion, my personal life has nothing to do with the correct pronunciation of this incantation_._ Which is, _Expecto Patronum,_ if my memory is correct."

"Well, if that's so …" she pointed her wand at his desk, "Ten points from Slytherin for not answering the question, and five points _to_ Slytherin for knowing the proper incantation. But remember, simply _knowing_ the words will not help should you ever meet a Dementor if you cannot power it with a sufficiently happy memory."

She was done with Snape_. Let the poor boy relax already._ _Poor boy? As if…_

"Everyone close your eyes." Her voice was not as harsh as it had been moments before. "I want you to think of a memory. Make it a powerful memory, the happiest you can remember." Hermione was almost whispering those words as she closed her eyes, trying to relax.

"Just remember, your _Patronus_ can only protect you as long as you stay focused. Think of the happiest thing you can, for as long as you can." She softened her voice so as not to break the class' concentration.

Inhaling deeply, she finally looked at her class. Students were waiting, almost not moving.

_Waiting for my Patronus, aren't we? _

"_Expecto Patronum!_" A strand of silver light shot out of her wand, flowing to the back of the dark classroom. Everybody was staring in amazement at what she had just done, but Hermione caught herself before she gave voice to her confusion. _What the … ?_

It was not an otter.

For a second it was, but then the animal started to change forms rapidly, from otter, to dog, to stag, to wolf, and finally … into a bat. _A bat!_ The solid form returned to her, floating in the air in front of her eyes. She tried to touch it, but her _Patronus_ slowly started to disappear.

"Class dismissed!" she said, her voice shaking. "By next lesson, I want everyone to write down all the charms they know for the Defence against Dark Arts course." She then turned around, swirling her robe behind her, and leaving the classroom.

She knew that a _Patronus_ could change it's form due to the caster's emotions.

_But why a bat?_


	10. Order

_**Disclaimer**:_do NOT own a thing...J. owns it all, exept my imagination :P

She was bored to death. Period.

Even sitting in double History of Magic listening to Binns was far more interesting than sitting here in the Headmasters office waiting for the Order of Phoenix meeting to finally start.

"No and no, Albus! Why does it always have to be _Gryffindor _colors?" Filius Flitwick was pacing in circles in the middle of the room. "Make it _blue_ and s_ilver._"

Yes. Decoration of the Great hall for Christmas was the reason for the heated arguing while they waited for the rest of the Order members to arrive.

Hermione sat in the big leather chair near the fireplace reading a random book she took from the shelf half an hour ago.

Frank and Alice Longbottom were late, as was Alastor Moody. _The_ _old prick._

So far, she found reading _A virgin in Paris _by Barbara Cartland, more interesting than listening to Flitwick pining about the drape colors. _Who knew the old man had such taste in muggle literature? _

Minerva sided with Dumbledore on the drape question.

Boring, boring, and boring.

Hagrid was engrossed in trying to make Fawkes speak '_like the muggle birdies do_,' but was failing miserably; Arthur Weasley was sleeping, and Molly could not come. _He was s__till tall and thin, _she noted_, with a receding hairline and wire-rimmed glasses._Not much had changed there.

It was strange to see him alive and she found herself glancing at him from time to time, trying to think in the present and not the future she hoped he would never have to face.

Finally the floo opened and the last three Order members stepped into the room.

Arthur started in his chair, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and Flitwick stopped his whining mid- sentence.

Alice took a seat on the sofa next to Hermione, and Frank went for some Chocolate Frogs on Dumbledore's desk before finding his own seat. Hermione nodded politely to Alice, and she gave a small smile in return.

"Not another one Albus!" exclaimed the grumpy old Auror, not even looking in Hermione's direction. "I can understand Minerva, that terrible Weasley woman … no offence Arthur …" he muttered somewhat sheepishly before continuing, "I even came to terms with _her_ presence …" he said, pointing his wand at Alice.

As he blustered and complained, Hermione noticed that Moody still had both legs and arms, his eyes were normal, and his nose was in one piece, but he was still as paranoid and cranky as she remembered.

" … and now you've brought this … this … _Slytherin spy_ among us?" he continued his rant, unaware or simply not concerned with the eye rolling going on around him. "Why, Albus? She's a woman! Couldn't you at least have recruited a _male_ from that traitor's house?"

"Never mind him, he's always like that. Chocolate frog?" she heard a familiar voice next to her and looked up and saw Neville … _not Neville_ … Frank, in front of her. _His son will look just like him._

"Thank you." she replied with a smile.

"Darling, sit down here." Alice put her hand on the black leather sofa. "You should have heard what he said about me joining the all-male Auror training," Alice said with surprising good humor, "you'll get used to him in time."

"I have no choice, do I," Hermione replied back softly, before continuing in a much louder tone as she addressed the cranky Auror. "Hermione Grimaldi, Mr. Moody. It's a pleasure to meet you as well." She added, with a bite of sarcasm that would have made Snape proud, "And to answer your question, _No_, I am _not_ a Slytherin, and I certainly am _not_ a Spy for Riddle."

"Albus?" Moody pointedly ignored her and continued demanding answers from the headmaster as if she had never spoken.

"Sit down, Alastor. Have a lemon drop and relax," the Headmaster said firmly, standing up from his high backed chair. "As you have already heard, she _is not_ a Slytherin, but is merely filling in for Horace on weekends, which, I might add, is good for the Order. Those kids are not exactly nice to Gryffindors, young or old."

"Oh, just deal with it Moody," Minerva finally broke her silence, "The girl is in the Order, Albus _trusts _her, and last, but not least, she is very good at DADA." she sniffed angrily before taking a small sip from her cup. "You were late again, so now we need to speed things along, because I have tests tomorrow for the seventh years, and I need to get ready for them."

"What tests, Witch, you've been teaching that class for how long now? Hell, you were _my_ teacher for Transfiguration," Moody pointed out, unfazed by her temper, "I doubt you need extra time to prepare."

"Which reminds me," Minerva added a bit spitefully, "you never were very good at transfiguring, still aren't, are you?"

"Minerva ... please," Albus threw both of his hands in the air in frustration, waiting for the squabbling members to finally settle into subdued silence so he could begin the meeting.

Hermione watched the petty exchange of words silently, but her irritation got the best of her. She had been so impatient to start this meeting, and now Moody was trying to ruin everything.

"Bloody hell, if Mr. Moody wants some proof that I am not a spy, he will get it Headmaster," she said angrily, standing up to make her point. "And then maybe we can finally start our meeting, otherwise we are all just wasting our time here."

Walking towards the Headmaster's desk, she bypassed Moody, who had been standing in her way. She perused the large bookcase, filled almost to overflowing with books on almost every subject imaginable, and a moment later climbed the small ladder, which stood nearby, to retrieve the item she had been searching for.

She gingerly stepped back down and turned back towards the group, "I trust everyone knows what this is?" she held up the battered Sorting Hat in her left hand.

"Silly question girl," Alastor sneered at her, "And I think you are a bit too _old _to be sorted."

Ignoring him, she put her right hand inside the hat. _Merlin, please, I need this to work …_

Everyone was looking at her with questions in their eyes, except for Dumbledore. _He knows what I'm going to do. _She recognized his twinkle for what it was … mirth.

Her hand finally touched something cold. _Steel._ Hermione could not help but smile a little before silently counting to three and then pulled out her hand, now clutching the unmistakable sword, from the hat so forcefully, that it hit the Headmaster's desk with a loud clang, and stayed half buried there even when she finally released it from her grip.

Minerva McGonagall almost chocked on her tea when she saw what Hermione had done.

Frank jumped to his feet in astonishment, "Holy mother of …"

"Merlin's Balls!" exclaimed Arthur, wishing Molly had been there to see it.

Made from Goblin forged stainless steel, it measured thirty four inches in length, and it sparkled brighter than the flames crackling in the fireplace. The hilt was decorated with egg-sized rubies, and the name of the original owner was engraved proudly on the untarnished silver blade. _Godric Gryffindor._

"Excellent, child, excellent," Dumbledore clapped his hands, clearly enjoying what he saw.

"Alastor," he said, to the gob smacked Auror in a voice filled with equal parts amusement and warning, "I hope you don't think Ms. Grimaldi is a spy _now, _because as much as I _hate_ to admit it, only a _true_ Gryffindor could have pulled _that_ out of the hat." He looked at everyone briefly to make sure there would be no more questions about Hermione's loyalty before returning to his chair. "Now, if you all would please have a seat, we can finally get started with the reason I have gathered you all here."


End file.
